The Competition
by Ochiba Konpeki
Summary: It was stupid, but Kyle was going to play along anyway, as he always did. And it was stupid, but Kenny just had to beat Token at this game. Its been forever since I've written so I'm more than a little rusty, but the story is fun :) K2, some Creek, some Stendy.
1. Chapter 1

Kenneth McCormick was fucked up, and that was okay, because they loved him. He made off-color comments and did strange and uncomfortable things but he was always invited at the dinner table and welcome to a spot on the floor to sleep. He was loud and he snored and Kyle kept ear plugs in his dresser drawer because he couldn't fathom asking him to sleep anywhere else than on the couch cushions he dragged from the living room up to the bedroom. He was the most loyal friend he'd ever had and just as much his brother as Ike was.

So this was a bit irritating.

"Kenny, you can just SLEEP on the FLOOR like you do at least once a week!" Kyle insisted to the hooded, cloaked figure crouched on my window sill, letting a warm late summer breeze into the comfortably cool bedroom. Kyle rubbed his eyes and dragged a hand through his unruly hair, fingers snagging.

"I do not know of this 'Kenny' individual," came a gruff, patient voice from under the shadow of the hood. "I am Mysterion."

Kyle clicked his tongue. "Ken, you realize I was THERE, right? The whole time? As the Human Kite, with the lasers, pew pew pew?"

The dark figure of Mysterion swayed, and his booted feet dropped to the floor with a muffled thud. He listed off to one side. Kyle scowled, crossing over to the window and shutting it. He turned to watch the purple-clad teenager make his way to the bed, stumbling off to the side as he did so. He tripped as he made to lay down, and ended up with only his torso on the mattress, his limp and useless legs, covered with his cloak, causing him to slowly but surely slide to the floor.

"Are you drunk?" Kyle asked finally, unable to keep nagging disapproval out of his tone.

"Drugged," he corrected, his words slurring together. There was humor in his tone. Kyle realized he'd been slurring a bit when he was in the window, too, and moved to help him sit up.

"Drugged?" Kyle demanded, "What do you mean, drugged?"

The redhead rolled him over and he sat slumped against the bed. He pushed Kenny's hood back off of his golden head and looked into his pretty blue eyes, red and slitted, one shut, the other dull and blank. He wore a mask that tied behind his head. "I mean I was drugged, Kyle." This was in his normal tone, but then he cleared his throat. "I mean, citizen," he corrected himself in Mysterion's deep, gravely voice.

"By who?" Kyle demanded. Kenny's chapped lips curled into a smile, and his gloved hand came up to cup the redhead's cheek. He shook his head and let his hand drop.

"You are so pretty," he mumbled. "Totally worth it."

"Worth what?" Kyle asked, confused, but he shut his eyes and groaned.

"Just let me sleep," he mumbled, voice halfway between Kenny and Mysterion.

OoO

The next morning, Clyde Donovan rang the Broflovski residence doorbell at 8:30 in the morning. Kyle was awake, despite the fact that it was a Sunday and most people, including his parents, were asleep. He opened the door and glared up at his classmate, who looked impassive and greeted him cordially in his normal congested tone. "Good morning, Lady Broflovski."

Kyle blinked at him, wholly unamused, and then noticed his clothing. He was dressed shoddily like a knight, with cardboard armor and a long red craft store feather sticking out of his silver-spray painted cardboard helmet. Kyle groaned, placing his face in his hands and nearly collapsing. He was, thinking back, unsure of how he'd managed to become friends with the only high school seniors who still played dress up and games of pretend. One could kindly call it live action role play, but it was very involved—they could go weeks on end without breaking character. It was exhausting—and very fun, a small voice inside him said—and nearly always caused trouble. Cartman was usually responsible for the plot and it was never as wholesome as it could be.

Kyle casted his mind up to the happily snoring pile of purple cloth on my bedroom floor. "Would this have anything to do with Kenny coming to my bedroom last night drugged?"

Clyde's eyebrows drew together. "Drugged? The good robin-hooded Mysterion was only drunk, Lady Broflovski. He entered a duel to be allowed to compete for your hand, despite not being of royal blood." He drew himself up to his impressive six foot stature, puffing out his chest, and Kyle thought vaguely that he'd probably have a girlfriend if he wasn't still doing this stupid shit.

Kyle shook his head, bemused. "What calls you to my door, good sir?" he asked, resigning himself to playing along. "And why the hell am I _Lady_ Broflovski?"

Clyde shrugged, breaking character to explain. "Wendy refused, and Nicole and Bebe didn't want to play, and we needed a fair maiden." Kyle blinked, wondering why exactly he was the next in line to be a fair maiden after the girls. Kenny usually was the one who played genderbent characters. Clyde's voice shifted to a stiff formal cadence as he continued. "The fair Lady Broflovski is invited to dine with her suitors at Lord Cartman's mansion today at 12:30. We eagerly await your arrival."

With that, Clyde turned, striding away with purpose, and Kyle watched after him, green eyes bright with curiosity. He wondered why Kenny had chosen to use his superhero to play a rogue, but suspected it was because of how sweet the costume was—it was much higher quality than most of the costumes we made. He'd stitched it together painstakingly in Home Ec last year and saved up for the boots and gloves for months. With the question mark removed, it wasn't a bad rogue costume either.

This reminded him that he would need a costume as well. He sighed, pulling out his phone to text Wendy about it. He assumed she'd know all about it. She was the only girl who still consistently played with them, the others only joining if they were crushing on one of the guys. Realizing that they were serious about the game usually turned them off, however, just leaving Wendy, who was honestly pretty and popular enough to get away with it. Privately, he thought that she enjoyed being "the girl" in the group, which he couldn't fault her for.

"Are you playing?" he texted her.

The response came quickly and he again wondered why everyone was up so early. "Warrior-Queen Wendabeth the second of Nott, at your service. Your dear mother & confidant, Princess Kyle." There was the kissy emoji with the heart eyes as well. Kyle rolled his eyes.

"I need a costume."

The response came quickly. "I'll come over with Sir Stan's sister's purity ball dress. Should fit, it's from when she was like 13."

Kyle's mouth dropped open at the insult. He knew that he was slight, but Wendy didn't need to throw it in his face like that.

"Meet me at Cartman's at 11:30 to get ready. I'll bring tights so you don't have to shave your legs 3"

Kyle rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone, pouring himself some coffee. He was thankful that it was summertime. This next year would be very busy with college applications and other such nonsense. Suddenly, his heart dropped, realizing that he was closing in on the end of his time playing these stupid games with his best friends. He suddenly felt guilty for not being excited for it, and decided to take it as seriously as usual. He was sure he'd miss it when he was gone.

He poured an extra cup for Kenny and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, sure that he would be dehydrated after last night. Kyle had not gone out to the party his friends were having at Token's because of a migraine—he now regretted it, because he knew what happened when you weren't there to fill out your own character sheet. It was always bad things.

Kenny shifted, moaning unhappily as Kyle entered the room and flicked on the lights.

"What have you gotten me involved with?" Kyle asked primly as Kenny shoved himself up off of the floor, cradling his head between his knees. The redhead bent to place the mug and the water near his feet.

Kenny opened the bottle gratefully and chugged it, some of the water trickling out of the corners of his mouth and down his stubbly jaw. He cleared his throat when he was done, looking like he felt better, and stood abruptly. "I _really_ need to pee." he said apologetically as he speed walked out of the room. Kyle sat in his desk chair, sipping his own coffee with contentment. Light roast with milk. Perfection.

Ken came back after a while, his hood back up and his voice deepened. Kenny REALLY enjoyed being Mysterion. "Good Lady Broflovski!" he greeted me. It would seem he'd not yet committed to the character, though, because he sat back down on the pillow Kyle had shoved under his head last night. He had dark circles under his eyes and his voice was a little hoarse. He picked up his own coffee and sipped it before continuing. "I have entered into the competition for thy hand..." he chuckled boyishly as Kyle rolled his eyes. "You play a heterosexual cisgendered female human. We're all playing humans this time. Your mother is trying to quell the rebellion of one of her sub kingdoms by marrying her daughter—you—" Ken waggled his eyebrows at him, "—to one of the noblemen elected by Lord Cartman the 8th of Pleasantry Hills. I, however, am not a nobleman, just a common thief... stealing from the rich to give to the poor. But my eye!" he sighed dramatically, casting Kyle a wistful look. "It's been caught by the fair maiden, and by winning a drinking contest with the Warlord, I've earned the right to compete!"

Kyle rolled his eyes, momentarily forgetting his promise to himself to take the game seriously for the sake of holding on to his childhood. "Have you?" he asked dryly. Kenny looked oddly hurt, and Kyle smiled to try to communicate that he wasn't upset. Wasn't very upset, anyway. "What am I doing?"

Kenny considered his question, taking a long sip. "You're judging our performances in each task," he said after a moment. "Actually, I think that you're choosing the tasks as well.

Kyle made a thoughtful noise. It would be interesting to make his character's motivation a lack of desire to marry... clichè, but fun. "Who all is competing?"

Ken brightened. "Me! And Craig and Tweek are competing as a pair, and Token. Oh! And Stan."

Kyle frowned, confused. "What are Clyde and Butters doing then?" he asked.

Kenny frowned back, chewing his lower lip. It was rather cute. "I think Butters is your brother, or maybe your chambermaid? And Clyde is the overseer of the competition. Or something."

Kenny drained his coffee. "Very well, fair lady, I take my leave of you." He bowed, his composure suddenly serious. He drew very close to Kyle, leaning over him in his chair and causing his breath to hitch. "It wouldn't do for me to be caught with the fair lady before I've won the competition."

Kyle shivered, for a moment forgetting that he was not, in fact, a princess indulging a forbidden and stolen moment with a suitor. And then he blinked and Kenny was gone.

He glanced at the clock. It was a quarter after nine. He could eat breakfast, read for a bit, and take a shower before he was expected at Cartman's "mansion." He suspected that everyone was up early to set up props for the game.

OoO

 _Wow okay I proofread this and reuploaded it. Lots of POV changes to fix. I admit to drinking a bit last night. I'll repeat my previous author's note: hello! It's been a very long time and I'm a little embarrassed to break the silence with this nonsense, but I hope you enjoy it. It was loosely inspired by the Fractured But Whole. I kind of wish that Douchebag/Buttlord was a common character in SP fanfic, I think it'd be funny._

 _As always,_

 **QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS?** _ **REVIEW!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Wendy opened the door almost as soon as he knocked on Cartman's door. He instantly recognized her beautiful, dark blue prom dress—the one that he knew Stan had asked her to wear in private on at least once occasion since their junior prom—and smiled upon seeing the cheap prom queen crown atop her head and a plastic sword hanging from her hip. The Warrior-Queen indeed.

"Mother," he greeted, a little coolly. Wendy seemed to pick up on the role play direction instantly.

"I know you're cross with me, dear," she said in an airy tone, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. He saw Clyde and Craig carrying a collapsible table down to the basement and waved. They nodded back. "This alliance is important for our kingdom, and for our people," Wendy continued. "As a princess, you must accept the need to make sacrifices."

Kyle let himself pout petulantly as they walked upstairs and into Cartman's deserted bedroom. "But why do I have to be a princess?" he demanded, eyeing the elegant and modest white dress on the bed.

"Well," said Wendy, in her normal tone. "It came down to you or Butters, and you're still a virgin, so we decided you'd be the better maiden."

Kyle sputtered, indignant, flushing bright red, but Wendy merely pointed at the dress, face expectant. Kyle rolled his eyes and began to strip off. They changed in front of each other fairly often, having a very respectful relationship with each other, and Wendy knowing that he was gay. "When the hell did Butters get laid?" he asked, his thoughts catching up to him. Wendy smirked.

"He's always loved women, you really shouldn't be surprised. He met some older girl online, she goes to UC Boulder. He seems smitten." Wendy watched him critically as he starting pulling on the tights. She nodded, satisfied that he knew how to do it, and looked at the shoes she'd brought for him. They'd discovered a while back that they wore the same size shoe when Wendy had broken one of her flip flops at school and Kyle lent her his gym sneakers. She'd brought a pair of plain white flats she'd bought for a choir concert in December.

"Well, how does everyone know I'm a virgin then?" he pouted, a little sullen, as he pushed his arms through the long, lacy sleeves of the dress. His cheeks were still a bit pink, and Wendy didn't bother answering him, instead focusing on the zipper of the dress. She then forced him to sit and got her makeup bag out. He visibly flinched and she giggled.

"We're not doing a full face, Kyle, I promise, just some eyeliner and blush and maybe some lipgloss. Promise." Kyle rolled his eyes but sat still as she did his make up, then began styling his hair with a comb and some spray from a metallic green can.

When she was finished, she put her things away and lead him over to the mirror to inspect the damage. Kyle was taken aback by his appearance. The eyeliner and mascara really did make his eyes pop, especially since his eyelashes were naturally a pale reddish color and didn't stand out much, and the blush and dusty pink lipgloss lent him a sensual appearance. The dress fit him nicely, hugging his frame with a high neck and long sleeves, and a long straight skirt that reached his ankles. He definitely still looked like a boy in a dress, but he was a cute boy in a dress, and really, what more could they hope for? He hadn't even picked the character, after all.

Wendy checked her phone. "12:20. Nearly time to go downstairs. We're going to "present" you, alright? To the competitors, like a debutant ball. Everyone will already be downstairs, so I'll leave you at the top of the steps to the basement—" she cleared her throat, "—the dining hall, I mean, and we'll call you down in a few minutes. Alright?"

Kyle lifted his nose into the air snootily. "Yes, mother, but don't expect me to choose or wed a champion."

Wendy rounded on him, pretend anger tightening her voice. "You will do as I say, young lady, and be grateful I'm not marrying you off to the Warlock himself!"

Kyle shuddered in revulsion, and Wendy sniffed triumphantly as she led him from the room.

OoO

Kyle hovered at the top of the basement steps, his cheeks flushed with the knowledge that he'd be in drag in front of all of his friends in a moment, listening to Queen Wendabeth and Warlock Cartman present the competition and the competitors.

"My heiress, the Princess Kyle, will be choosing her betrothed from the participants of this honorable competition. She will be setting three challenges, and in each round, one competitor will be eliminated based on their effort and performance. The final competitor shall win the virgin princess for their marriage bed."

There was an excited whispering at that, and Kyle flushed at the implication that he'd be sleeping with the victor. Ridiculous.

There was a scraping of chairs, and Cartman began to speak. "Alright you guys," he began, "the honor of presenting the four competitors falls to me. The first is my noble and highly decorated general, Sir Token Black of the House of Black. Token, if you would stand." There was another scraping chair in a moment of silence. "The next is my son, Lord Stan Marsh. If you would stand, Sir Stan." Another pause in which Stan must have stood. "Next, a quite unusual entry to this competition, Sirs Tweek and Craig, who enter as a pair looking to add a woman to their union as to make it a legally binding relationship."

There was a moment of confused whispering, and Craig clarified nasally, "Gay marriage isn't legal in the Kingdom of Nott, but polymarous marriage is."

This seemed to be logical to everyone in attendance, and Cartman continued with no further discussion. "And finally, Mysterion, a peasant thief who has won the right to compete for the fair Princess."

There was a scrape and a clang that Kyle could deduce was the result of Wendy standing up so forcefully she knocked over her chair. Her voice range out, full of pretend anger. "This is an insult to the crown!"

There was a slam—Cartman's hands on the table, perhaps?—and he hissed back, "Your taxes are an insult to my people!"

There was a pregnant pause, and then the sound of the chair being righted. Wendy cleared her throat and called out regally. "Now, the moment we've all been waiting for—I present to you, the fair Princess of Nott!"

Kyle supposed this was his cue and began to descend the steps, feeling every bit the debutant as, upon becoming visible to the table, his friends gasped and stared, some smirking. Queen Wendabeth the 2nd looked positively thrilled by the reactions and puffed up proudly.

Cartman stood and pulled out the empty chair between him and Wendy. Kyle blinked at him, flushed slightly, and took a seat, feeling awkward with all the eyes on him. He took in the spread of food instead and chuckled. They were eating Pizza Hut off of ceramic plates, with silverware. "Let us eat!" Cartman declared, and everyone—Cartman, Wendy, Stan, Kenny, Clyde, Tweek, Craig, Token, Butters, and Kyle—all dug in, politely cutting the pizza into bite sized chunks. Kyle grabbed a slice of bell pepper, olive, and mushroom pizza (eating dairy with meat is not kosher, after all) and began cutting his into chunks as well, eating primly. They ate in silence, Kyle doggedly avoiding the eyes of his suitors after he had caught Token's gaze and he'd winked. Token had been teasing him like that a lot lately, it was unnerving.

Kyle thought about what challenges he wanted to pose while he ate, and by the time they were wrapping up, he thought he knew what he was going to do.

Queen Wendabeth stood, a mapped clutched forgotten in her hand, and thanked them for joining the royal family for lunch. "Dear daughter, are you ready to give the first challenge?"

Kyle nodded. "Yes, I am, actually." Suddenly, all eyes were on him and his cheeks reddened once more, feeling uncomfortably exposed in his dress. His voice cracked when he tried to speak, and he cleared his throat before beginning again. "Excuse me. Uhm, yes. Competitors!" He turned a serious eye onto his suitors, face stern as he entered his role. "The winner of the first challenge will be he who presents me with three items."

There was a look of confusion, Kenny and Stan glancing at each other. Kyle cleared his throat once more. "The items, of course, will be given to you in the form of riddles."

Stan groaned and placed his head in his hands. Kenny looked stricken. Kyle couldn't help but notice an odd gleam in Token's eye. "The first item: with pointed fangs I sit and wait, with piercing force I serve out fate. I grab bloodless victims, proclaiming might, joining them with a single bite. What am I?" Tweek looked anxious enough to burst out of his skin, and several of the boys pulled out their phones to take notes. Token asked him to repeat the riddle and he did, before continuing, a bit slower. "The second: I am a seed with three letters in my name. Take away the last two and I still sound the same. What am I?"

Stan was staring at him like he'd grown another head. Kyle smiled, gleeful that these riddles were not ones that the boys had already heard. "The third: I have six faces, though I have no body, and 21 eyes, though I cannot see. What am I?"

The five competitors stared at him. Kyle blinked innocently at them and said, "Good luck! You have one hour."

Stan remained seated as the other boys rushed from the room, confused expressions on their faces, and at Kyle's confused look, merely shrugged. "I'm not gonna get any of them," he admittedly readily. "I concede to my competitors and offer a marriage proposal to the Queen instead." He winked at Wendy, letting his eyes roam up and down her form. Wendy blushed, pleased, and crossed the room to give him a kiss.

Butters appeared at Kyle's side. "My lady, is there anything I can do for you?" He was smiling broadly, clearly still very happy to be included, even after all these years.

Kyle started to shake his head no, but then his perked up. "Let's play Cards Against Humanity while we wait."

OoO

Kenny stood in the kitchen, looking lost as he stared around at random objects, running over the riddles in his head. _A seed? Like a sunflower seed?_ he thought wildly, in a panic. He'd expected shows of strength and courage, not shows of wit, though in hindsight it seemed obvious that Kyle would choose this route. He shut his eyes, regret washing over him. He wouldn't have drunk himself half to death the night before if he was going to lose anyway, but the whole thing seemed terribly romantic, a great way to ask Kyle out without _really_ asking him out...

Token's voice cut through his reverie. "The first one is a stapler," he said, tone businesslike. Kenny turned to see him leaned against the door to the kitchen. He was handsome; tall, cut, and well-dressed, his hair neat and his skin clear and richly colored. Kenny wondered why he was helping him, but did not have to wonder long.

Token was very matter of fact. "Look, I know you're just playing the game, but I really like Kyle, and it would be really cool of you to help me out so that I can win and then, maybe, ask him out." His eyes were dark and earnest. Kenny felt his jaw drop. "Will you help me figure out the other two?"

Kenny snapped his jaw shut and tried to control his facial expression, which he was sure was a very telling mix of anger and shock. He was grateful for his hood. He shook his head, and Mysterion's calm, deep voice sprang from deep in his throat, "I am a fighter, not a thinker, Lord Black," he said, truthfully. "I'm afraid I won't be much help.

Token nodded, acquiescing, and left the room, obviously unconcerned that he'd let slip the first answer to the rival he didn't yet know he had. Kenny stared at the fridge. Maybe there was something in there?

OoO

Kyle stood staring at three small piles of items sitting on the table where they had eaten. There was an egg in the mix, which he found utterly perplexing. He stepped up to the first pile as Clyde's voice rang out over the group. "The princess will now judge the results!"

The first pile consisted of a pea and a clock. He looked up, and Craig raised his fist up slightly, indicating that this was he and Tweek's pile. Kyle put on his most pretentious tone. "The second riddle was a pea, yes," he announced, "but why have you brought me a clock?"

Tweek jerked and shouted to release some of his anxiety. Craig shrugged and said "Riddles often involve clocks, I figured it was a good guess."

Fair enough.

The second pile had a stapler, a pea, and a pair of dice. Kyle smiled approvingly. "Perfect! Who was this?" Token raised his hand, a winning smile on his handsome face, and Kenny scowled darkly at him from under his hood when Kyle grinned at him

The last pile was Kenny's, and it contained a stapler, an egg, and a quarter. "Why the egg?" There was laughter in Kyle's, but Kenny's voice was dark as he responded.

"It has three letters," he grated out. "And it's sort of like a seed for a chicken."

"And the quarter?"

"It was all I had in my pocket."

Kyle laughed, and the sound was absolutely kind, but Kenny still felt embarrassed. Maybe he didn't even deserve Kyle. If the redhead wanted someone brainier, he really couldn't be blamed, could he? And Token was rich and good looking. Kenny didn't compare.

"That leaves Sir Stan, who did not participate in this round." Stan smiled sheepishly at Kyle from his place next to Wendy. "He is therefore eliminated." Stan made a show of being heartbroken, eliciting scattered laughter from the close knit group.

Kyle clapped his hands together, obviously getting into the swing of the game. "Alrighty then! On to the second challenge!"

OoO

 _Wow okay where is this going?_

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	3. Chapter 3

Kenny was confident about the second challenge. He was an okay artist—he'd always doodled whenever he was thinking, and several people had told him that they weren't bad. The assignment was simple—Kyle wanted them to draw portraits of him. Kyle lounged on top of the table, striking different poses. He was joking—no one was drawing directly from his likeness. Kenny bit his lip, watching him toss his head back and shake out his gorgeously curly hair. He stared hard at his pale, slender throat, swallowed hard, and turned his attention to the page in front of him.

He set his pencil down to the page and began, letting himself focus completely on the task at hand. He couldn't really capture Kyle realistically—he strongly doubted any of them were that talented at drawing—but he could capture the feel of him. He drew a figure in an ushanka, with curly hair poking out of the bottom, standing on a fictional hill overlooking Stark's Pond. You knew it was Stark's Pond, you see, because Kenny drew the sign and wrote Stark's Pond right on it. Ken's tongue stuck out just slightly in his concentration.

"Your daughter is a slut." This came in a conversational tone from Cartman. Kenny started a little upon realizing that he was speaking to Wendy and therefore referring to Kyle. "Look at her, showing off for suitors like a common whore."

Kenny looked up in time to see Wendy cast him a scathing look. "You'd know all about common whores," she hissed. "That's all you have down in Pleasant Hills. Or should I say Peasant Hills?"

Kenny muffled a snort into his gloved hand and refocused on the drawing, unwilling to let himself be distracted. He started to draw himself in next to Kyle, with big smiles on both of their faces. Maybe he'd have them holding hands. He heard Cartman and Wendy continuing to argue but kept drawing, pushing their voices from his mind.

OoO

Kyle had stopped posing and instead sat up straight on the table, legs stretched out in front of him, glaring at Cartman after the slut comment. He could see the alliance falling apart quickly, and wondered what his character motivation in this situation would be. Does he want the alliance to fall apart so he will not have to wed, or does he want to stop the civil war brewing in the far reaches of his kingdom?

"If what you're after is a common whore," he said coolly, interrupting Wendy who had just begun to speak, "Perhaps I could offer the services of my chambermaid?"

Butters stiffened upon realizing that he was, in fact, the chambermaid, and flushed bright red. The Warlock looked him up and down, his anger deflating, and nodded once. "Yes, actually," he said, his tone dangerous and cocky. "That will be fine."

Cartman always overdedicated himself to characters and would not shy from taking a specific course of action that might embarrass him as long as it was in character. The rule was that you had to go into the next room and either have sex for real (usually the only pair to take advantage of this was Stan and Wendy, and on one deeply memorable occasion, Tweek and Craig), or make very loud, very fake sex noises for a few minutes. Butters HATED making the noises, and secretly, Kyle was pretty sure Cartman didn't like it either. Maybe it reminded him of when his mother was still entertaining men in the house.

Cartman grabbed Butters' wrist and began to tug him towards the door that lead to the little room where the washer and dryer were kept. Wendy whistled and winked at Butters, who turned tomato red and sputtered, looking helplessly at his longtime friend, Eric, who merely pushed him into the cramped room and shut the door. Kyle, Wendy, and Clyde stared expectantly at the door, but no sounds emerged. Wendy raised a thin, dark eyebrow after a few minutes of silence and called snottily, "Follow the rules, fatass! Either fuck or fake it!"

Everyone in the room froze as Cartman's voice called back breathlessly, "I am, asshole!"

Wendy clapped her hand to her mouth and Clyde looked rather green. Kenny looked up for long enough to grin wickedly at the closed door, but then he became distracted again. "I thought you said he had a girlfriend!" Kyle shot at Wendy, who shook her head, cheeks pink.

"I thought he did!" she insisted. "You just actually whored Butters out!"

The redhead rolled his eyes back at her. "It's not my fault Butters is a common whore!" The words were playful. Kyle checked his watch. "Five more minutes on the drawings! He called to the competitors.

Kenny looked absolutely panic stricken, Kyle realized suddenly, glancing between his paper and Token's with an air of desperation. He seemed frozen with indecision, pencil hovering anxiously over his own art, but his eyes fixed on the other boy's. Kyle frowned, worried that Kenny was getting too worked up over the competitive aspect of the game as some of the boys sometimes did. He needed to calm down.

The last minutes ticked away, Clyde and Kyle improvising a chat about trade with a nearby kingdom, the Land of the Gnomic Regime, in order to block out the very faint sounds coming from beyond the door to the washing room. Kyle had been very unwilling to continue listening after hearing what he swore was a squeal, and they spoke a little louder than necessary. Finally, Kyle called time.

"Bring up your drawings!" His voice was sing-songy and he held out his hand to take the first drawing, smiling broadly. "Hurry up, Cartman!" he called over his shoulder.

"Shut the fuck up, Jew, we're getting cleaned up!" Cartman called back. Kyle rolled his eyes, taking the paper from Craig, who stared impassively at him, and looking down at it with mirth in his eyes.

Kyle choked upon seeing the image there. It was shoddily drawn in anime style, and a doe-eyed Kyle Broflovski stared up at him from the page, naked with his leg bent to cover his privates, and blush lines drawn on his cheeks. ' _B-baka!_ ' read the speech bubble drawn close to her head. He stared at it, able to see where Tweek and Craig had worked together on the drawing with mixed results. The arms looked like they were drawn independently of each other.

Suddenly, Cartman was at his shoulder, a little flushed and damp at the temples. "Nice," he commented. "Did everyone draw you naked?"

Kyle whipped his head around to look at Kenny and Token, terrified that they had, indeed, chosen to also draw him nude. They both shook their heads. Kyle glowered at Tweek and Craig, who held hands as they looked at him hopefully from across the table, Tweek with a delighted smirk on his face and Craig only displaying his amusement in the slight crinkle around his eyes. "You two are terrible," he scolded. "If no one else drew me nude, I'm disqualifying you on the basis that you've failed to respect the crown."

Tweek giggled delightedly. "Can we keep the drawing?" he asked. Kyle rolled his eyes and handed it back, looking to Kenny expectantly. The blond mutely handed over his page, looking pale.

A smile curved Kyle's lips as he took it in. It was cute and cartoonish, depicting himself standing with Kenny in a landscape park scene. It was very sweet, and the sight of their little ball hands overlapping was positively heartwarming. The Kenny in the picture was looking at the Kyle, who looked out at the viewer. " _Much_ better than that pornography," Kyle scoffed, gesturing rudely to the first paper. He sat Kenny's down carefully and looked up at Token, smiling.

The look in Token's eye caught him off guard. It was heated, and his eyes lidded, and Token's hand brushed against his own as he handed off his art. Kyle did not know Token particularly well. They'd always gotten along fine, but honestly, Kyle had barely even seen him this summer. The change in behavior was unsettling, and, deigning to ignore it, he turned his attention to the page.

Kyle gasped.

It was him. It was stunning—rough, but realistic, well proportioned and excellently shaded, and undoubtedly him, his head propped up on his fist, his gaze off to the side and distinctly wistful. There was meticulous attention to detail with the shape and shading of the eyes and the lips, and a smattering of freckles on the nose, and Kyle knew instantly that Token was not playing any game. His eyes flashed up to meet those of the tall, handsome man whom had drawn him so lovingly, and found his dark eyes warm and heavy-lidded.

Desperate for an escape from the intensity of that look, he glanced at Wendy, who looked concerned, and then to Kenny, who appeared to be shaking slightly. His eyes were flickering back and forth between Token, who still stood directly across the table from Kyle, looking at him with longing, to the page held in Kyle's small hands. There was anger in the set of his jaw and Kyle realized that they were both serious.

His face flushed and his stomach clenched, and he turned away from them both. His voice was high and plainly displayed his discomfort as he pushed forward. "W-well, on to the third challenge then. The final round of this, of this competition, is, ah, a duel."

And before Kyle could begin to explain that they'd be sword fighting with some of the plastic swords from when they were kids, he heard the unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh and whipped around to see Token on the ground, Kenny hurling himself down on top of him.

OoO

 _This is weirdly boring. It's like I can't feel the characters, and I'm recounting the story as an observer. I'm going to try to just finish it up and call it good practice, I think. Rating will change next chapter._

 _ **QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


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